August & September
by cheebs
Summary: Faith. Buffy. Caritas.


Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, much as I wish I   
did. I'm just borrowing them for a bit of romp and play, and   
am gaining nothing for this story but my own enjoyment.   
  
Rating: PG...possibly PG-13?   
  
Spoilers: if you don't know who or what Caritas is, don't   
read.  
  
Archive: Piper and all the list archives. Anyone else, please  
ask first, or at least give me a heads up and link back once  
it's up.  
  
Author: cheebs!  
  
Email: chbkamen at optonline dot net  
  
Site: http://bite.to/bloodandfire (I know people are visiting,   
but no one has signed my guestbook. *pout*)  
  
Feedback: would be greatly appreciated. :)   
  
Dedications: Matt Johnson, whose incredible lyrics inspired  
this and many other ideas. Thethe are one of the most   
underrated bands ever.  
// // = song lyrics  
  
  
August & September  
-------------------  
  
It's just another night at Caritas...or is it? The crowd   
hums with excitement as a beautiful leather-clad brunette   
takes the stage. There is no need for Lorne to introduce her;   
the patrons all know her as the agent of their would-be   
deaths. This is the only opportunity most of them will have   
to look into her dark eyes, both haunted and haunting, and   
live to tell of it.   
  
She says nothing as she grips the microphone, looking down at   
her scuffed and dusty boots. She shifts impatiently, awaiting  
the first piano chords, and tangled curls obscure her face  
momentarily.  
  
The first chord is struck, and she begins:  
  
// Suddenly last summer  
I started going out of my head  
In a tiny hotel room  
Lying naked on a bed //  
  
She grins, noting the lustful looks on a number of faces in  
the crowd as they imagine what she sings. She is far from   
shy, and well aware of the sensuality that emanates from her  
in palpable waves. She also knows she is not the only One in  
the bar tonight.  
  
// I /knew/ what you were doing. And I /knew/ what you'd done.  
Your life with me was ending. Your new life had begun.  
But I was cursing your name. And I was cursing that room.  
And I was praying for the strength, to stop loving you. //  
  
Her eyes scan the room, finally coming to rest on a blonde   
near the back. /She/ is the cause of the fire which burns in   
the singer's body, and it is she for whom the song is   
intended.  
  
// I started writing you the letter  
Which turned into the book  
I was gonna reach across the ocean  
& force you to look  
But what kind of woman was I  
Who would sacrifice your happiness, to satisfy her pride?  
What kind of woman was I  
Who would delay your destiny, to appease her tiny mind? //  
  
Her smoky voice blends with the music, drawing the blonde in   
as if a spell had been cast over her. She gets up from her   
table and takes slow, measured steps towards the stage.  
  
// Then you came back to me & I went down on one knee  
With a glint in my eyes & a rose between my teeth  
And I pushed out my tongue, for you to see   
That I'd been dying of a thirst for your company  
Then you quenched my lonliness with your tears  
And our clothes fell away as we rolled back the years //   
  
Leather creaks as the brunette goes down on one knee,   
mimicking the words she sings. Her knuckles whiten as she   
grips the mic tighter.   
  
// But we couldn't deny it because we could not admit it  
If our love was too strong to die  
Or were we just too weak to kill it  
Was our love too strong to die  
Or were we just too weak to kill it? //  
  
The question is more than just a lyric, and the emotion in   
those bottomless obsidian orbs more than mere lust. Full with   
barely restrained tears, they lock on the blonde's hazel eyes.  
She pauses at the stage steps.  
  
// Every moment in that room I closed my eyes in prayer.  
Every moment I awoke I clenched my teeth in prayer. //  
  
The brunette sinks down onto both knees now. Her head tips  
forward, her hair hiding her expression completely, as she  
continues in a voice raw with feeling.  
  
// What kind of woman was I  
Who would sacrifice your happiness to satisfy her pride?  
What kind of woman was I  
Who would delay your destiny to appease her tiny mind?  
Who /could/ delay your destiny to appease her aching,   
swollen pride?  
Who COULD delay your destiny to appease her screaming   
little mind? //  
  
The blonde is shaken from her daze, and ascends the stairs.  
She approaches the now-trembling brunette.  
  
// You're mine...you're mine...you're mine...YOU'RE MINE!!!   
YOU'RE MINE!!! //  
  
On the last "you're mine," the blonde slips an arm around the   
brunette's waist and raises her chin. "I'm yours," she agrees   
in a soft voice, her face scant centimeters from the other   
woman's. "Are you mine?"  
  
In reply, full crimson lips capture pastel painted ones in   
a fierce kiss. No words are needed between them; they have   
ever been linked and had known the other's essence before   
they had ever met. So it is with a not-so-simple kiss that  
souls are fully bared for the first time since their meeting,  
and the past is laid to rest. They leave the stage amidst   
applause and catcalls from the other patrons, anxious to   
begin the next phase of their lives...together.  
  
~end~  
July 9, 2002 


End file.
